Moon in Aquarius.

The weather today has been rubbish. Shrouded by shimmering heat and viscous humidity, tormented by a fashionably guilt-provoked decision against switching on the A/C, and bullied by unrelenting rays streaming through west-facing windows (real estate has never been one of my parents' strongest points); I spent most of the afternoon lying supine, a human star against faded chequered cotton sheets, eyes focussed on glowing dust particles frozen in mid-air. When even reading became impossible, all I could do was think.

I have a secret to confess: I believe in astrology. Not that I use it to determine my daily schedule or divine the future, but I do spend a lot of time reading about it on the internet and drawing comparisons with my reality. In many ways, it's like having an online psychotherapist, or a virtual support group.

The first thought that gained form and emerged from the dense fog of my mind, was that sitting for the CFA really won't do much for what I want to do with my life. I have no attraction to the world of finance. The only career option I'd consider which would benefit from studying for the CFA, would be one in ethical investing (and then that's only to make up for all the earth-unfriendly money-hungry evildoings I've been forced into by The Sore).

The second thought was, what the hell is it that I want to do with my life? If I had to answer that, I'd say "travel the world". Then I recalled the hot Scottish architect - in whom I had confided that architecture really was my first choice but then the overwhelming desire to get out of The Sore led me to study economics instead. His response was something trite like "if that's what you really want to do then you should just do it".

But I'm not about to devote another five years of my life to studying for another degree, then starting from scratch all over again. And truth be told, it wasn't architecture per se that appealed to me, it was its implied promise that my work would allow me to create something beautiful. M and S were right - I used to be pretty good at art and stuff back in high school. But I wouldn't consider myself an artist. I haven't got a definitive style, as an individual I'm just not quirky enough, and my childhood hadn't passed the "fucked up" bar that so many other so-called artists' have.

The third thought was, I really REALLY want to move my arse to Aus, possibly for good. Maybe get a job with one of the numerous commodities houses there (although I expect that it would be terribly competitive). But that won't be for a few more years. First, I'll need to save up loads of cash (which becomes quite easy when one gives up luxuries such as "a social life"), gain more experience, get all my traveling desires out of the way, etc etc.

The only logical conclusion now is to wait. Hopefully I can preserve myself well enough in the meantime to look as fresh as a 25-year old once I'm out of it.

========

I give up on trying to figure out the lines spacing on this blog. Just take it as me exercising my artistic license to create varying depths of nothingness in between excerpts of my life.

========

How bizarre.

Another One Bites the Dust.

Everybody's leaving. Just today a colleague forked out over $150k as a penalty for terminating his contract with the organisation with three years to go. Another colleague has confided in me that he has received alluring offers from companies willing to pay an increase of 50% over his current salary. No doubt he would be leaving sometime soon too. As B would say, it's a candidate's market. Particularly so for the maritime sector.

What do I do about it? If there was a time for me to seek a new job, this would be it. But I simply cannot bear the thought of forking over a quarter million dollars to the organisation (that's what it would cost now), no matter how attractive the competing offer is. And as long as the exodus continues, the diminishing competition here means that my opportunities in the organisation are improving.

Or am I just afraid of finding out that I'm not wanted out there?

I do believe...

...that things are falling into place rather nicely indeed. Approved.

========

I'm leeeaaaaaaavvvvvvvviiiiinnnnnnnnnggggggggg on a jet plaaaane...

...in approximately 72 hours. So exciting! But I still haven't ticked off all the items on my shopping list for the trip. Sigh. Stop doing everything at the last minute Earrci! (Even though you do it so well...heh)

Sucked in?

It all started when I looked back fondly on my teenage years and realised that although music played a definitive role in my life back then, it had been reduced to a bit part a decade later. So began the raids on the virtual and old-school music stores for the beats from which I was wrought, and the creeping desire to have in my possession an mp3 player. With my purchase of an electric toothbrush, partly to motivate myself to look good for the office, I had hoped that voices urging me to be au courant would be silenced. And so it was - for approximately 24 hours. Now with my next holiday just round the corner, I find myself contemplating the purchase of a digital camera. For years I have avoided these very trappings of a generation brought up on instant gratification and a burning hunger for excess. I have defended my abstinence (to myself more than anybody else) by reasoning that there really is no need for these things, that such possessions create the demand for themselves. Sigh.

I've kicked the cosmetics habit only to grow an electronics one. Bleurgh. Damn you internet, it's all your fault!

Delayed Monday Morning Effect.

I am now paying the price of having a cheerful and invigorated Monday morning with a crappy Tuesday one instead. It doesn't help that I have a potentially long (and painful) meeting later with some folk from the ivory towers of the civil service telling me how my division can manage our knowledge better. (It's difficult enough getting my colleagues to keep records of stuff, I can't imagine persuading them to save it all to a fancy central database full of wonderful helpful features that you MUST use, because if you don't it just WON'T WORK AND THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT WILL CRUMBLE TO PIECES BEFORE THE UNIVERSE CEASES TO BE.)

Bazza highlighted to me over the weekend her disbelief that, N years on, I still continue to spend marathon lengths of time in the mornings (well, afternoons and evenings too...) just getting ready. It's true - I spend at least half an hour in the bathroom each morning and a further 10min just putting clothes on. I know why I spend so much time in the bathroom - I mean, it takes me FIVE whole minutes just to brush my teeth. I'm not sure why it takes so long for me to put clothes on though, I don't recall getting really confused by it in the mornings and my clothes are pretty standard items of attire. Maybe the wormhole in my room does more than suck in my socks...

So I've decided to buy an electric toothbrush that promises to cut down my teethbrushing time to a mere TWO minutes. Unfortunately my (no longer) trustworthy toiletries store doesn't have much of a range to choose from. I want one of those fancy Oral B ones that threaten to shut down the entire power grid if you switch it on, not any of the wussy "affordable" ones that share the same shelf space as conventional manual toothbrushes.

Shit I forgot to buy floss.

My Mother...

... has well and truly returned to her Psychotic self, the same monster that I spent my childhood and teenage years battling. The only person who can help her now is herself - reason is clearly lost on her, as proven by today's hysterical episode. I can't even bother with keeping my personal opinions to myself anymore. Protecting her from what are her real issues isn't going to make things any better. My father seems desperate to stick to quick, short term solutions that pacify my mother, to accede to her crazy demands and to allow her to wallow in self-inflicted misery. I'll let him know what I think - that this will only make things worse, that what we should be doing is to discuss the fundamental issues that are feeding the maelstrom of negativity that she seems to thrive on. He'll probably respond with the stock reply that at the end of the day she's my mother and I have to let her be as she wants to be even if she's in the wrong; that if she gets angry with me I should seek her forgiveness - even if she's in the wrong. And then I'll reply that accepting today's spurious demand would in fact take away the one thing that's she's known as the reason for her being; that allowing her to languish at home doing absolutely nothing will merely increase the sense of irrelevance she already feels; that ultimately both her physical and mental health will be at stake.

He would just say that we should just give it a try, and see what happens.

========

When I was a child and then a teenager, I had no choice but to deal with my mother's demons. Returning from London, I told myself to wait things out first before making the decision to move out. Rental prices are after all astronomical and I wasn't earning much, plus by moving out I would create a rift in the family. After two years of normalcy I felt that things were good and that there was no need to move out, then I adopted a kitten.

Maybe that tempted Fate, who decided my sanity needed a challenge. Now that I can afford to move out, I'm faced with the dilemma of choosing between paying a huge premium for a place that would accept both human and feline; and continuing to live under the same roof as my mother, unsure of which one of us would lose her mind first.

Smelling good...

...may be having an adverse effect on my productivity. I've noticed that mornings where I expend considerable effort carefully anointing myself with a selection of perfumes and scented products, are often followed by days in the office that are surprisingly free from personal desire for urgency in my work. It appears that the redolent fortress that I have built around myself against the olfactive offences that plague public transport, is also protecting me from meeting my deadlines. Each time I think, "right, this can't go on, I've got to get that e-mail done now", I am suddenly distracted by another thought: "Good Heavens what is that absolutely divine fragrance?" ... And then I realise it's just me.

========

Ha ha ha ha ha whoop dee doo thank beer it's Friday!!!

Scorpio Rising.

I would say that I am in a pretty good mood today, largely because of the surprisingly large bonus that appeared in my bank account, in addition to the sudden and fairly significant increase in my salary. I guess I am appreciated after all.

And not immune to the allure of money.

========

I am totally in love with Brett Anderson. I feel almost like a melancholic, angst-ridden teenager again.

Not just sliced bread.

There are many things in this world that are underrated. Little things that, in their own special ways, make me happy. This post is in honour of all the mini-wonders that have helped me survive a dry weekend spent pretending to study for the CFA:

1. Arnott's mint slices

2. Tea

3. The electric kettle

4. Cheddar cheese nachos/pretzel bits/anything

5. Instant coffee

6. Cotton buds

7. Instant noodles

8. Eggs

9. Free pens that come in corporate goodie bags

10. Toothpaste in flavours other than mint

11. Economy packs of no-frills black thongs that fit perfectly

12. Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger"

Aww...

I love US navy officers. I try really hard not to because I disagree with US foreign policy, but I can't help being absolutely charmed by them. The ones I've met have all been really cheerful, earnest guys who genuinely believe that what they're doing is right and for the benefit of all mankind. Their optimism and eagerness to learn and do stuff are almost infectious. Maybe it's from being stuck at sea for most of the year, that it's just humanly impossible for them not to find the sheer state of being on land The Most Exciting Thing Ever. I couldn't help but break into an indulgent grin when I heard the commodore I met today say "Wow" like a 5 year old kid when he was informed that the Greeks were influencing Chinese art as far back as the 10th century. SO CUTE. Damn, most of the men I know probably wouldn't have given a shit!

Hell, they probably wouldn't have been caught dead in a museum!

========

In other news, I just caught the last half hour of Predator, which I think is one of the Best Movies Ever, and now I really REALLY want to get my hands on a tri-beam laser pointer which would look so absolutely effing COOL when I make my presentations. I WANT.

Breakthrough and Conquer.

Remember American Gladiators? Sure you do, you used to watch it as a kid. I sure as hell did. Loved it, couldn't miss it. I even had a tiny crush on one of them, his name was Nitro or Laser or Uranium or something (guess which one I made up). Well they've brought it back! To the States at least. I wonder if it'll ever come out here. It's so much better than the wrestling though (yes, I used to love that too, and thought that The Undertaker was the coolest dude ever).

So embarrassing!

*Grrr*

It's barely quarter past nine in the morning and already Wimpy Colleague, who craves stress and pro-actively creates problems for himself (often fucking up the work of other people for whom these are real responsibilities), has ticked me off. As if listening to his quavering voice and spineless complaints all day long isn't enough! I am fed up with people who, with the lack of instruction from their rank superiors, are incapacitated by the unexpected demands of decision-making. I have no sympathy for people who implode under the weight of endless unnecessary concerns. The sooner, the better, I say.

2007 in Review

Although procrastination has always been my favourite vice, it abuses me - forcing me to make a meaningful assessment of the past year and to outline my objectives for the next, in just one hour... But I have always worked best under pressure, expending the least efforts necessary to achieve desired results. I am after all an economist by training and a business school graduate by accident; yet born into a creed that observes relaxation, personal space and balance.

In the spirit of lean operations for best results, I will reduce my world in 2007 to the five key events that would shape my future. In chronological order, they are:

1. I got a new job.

By far the most significant turning point in my life since leaving business school. Suddenly I was motivated to wake up for work every morning and for the first time, considered it possible to survive six years of legal bondage to the government. The new job came with far more responsibilities and much heavier workload; but in return I get real opportunities to influence consequential decisions, and respect for my efforts and my principles (including an increasingly leftist political approach). Oh yeah and I got to go to Hamburg, Copenhagen, Oslo, London and Paris.

2. I kicked the D habit.

Well, really, the habit kicked me. Like a country imploding under the pressures of impasse en route to a change of leadership, I needed a violent upheaval to purge myself of a destructive past and to introduce a brighter future.

3. I got a cat and boob job!

I accepted the responsibility of another creature's life and irreversibly changed my own. Now I can do ANYTHING!

4. I went to Goa.

And everything material has seemed immaterial to me ever since.

5. I finished reading War and Peace.

The words "A Life Changing Novel" ensconced in a very authoritative red circle scream out from the book cover. I dare not challenge it. I also read: Anna Karenina, Crime and Punishment, the Queen of Spades and other Stories, My Name is Red, Industrial Society and its Future, Hegemony or Survival, and a history of Africa's independence since 1950. So those are probably the reasons why I may have seemed overbearingly broody in 2007.


========

I'll work on my expectations for 2008 tomorrow. Meanwhile, I've decided to get a prowling cougar tattooed on my right thigh. I've been trawling the internet for appropriate designs, and it keeps telling me that cougars are signs of courage, loyalty and leadership. And here I was thinking it was a sign that I want to get naked with the Hot Young Intern from the 19th floor!

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL!!!

TDBD (Addendum)

11. Navigate the Northwest Passage (while it's still icy) on an ice-breaker.

Things to Do Before I Die.

I blame it on my fascination with Russian fiction and, well, general non-fiction, in the past year. Provoked by the need for retrospect that time forces upon us towards the end of every year; and the sense of hope that Christmas tends to bring round. That things are slow in the office also helps.

Yes, this is (part of) a list of stuff I'd like to do (in no particular order) before I die. It's likely to evolve over time, with more items changing than being ticked off. A crude manifestation of my life's objectives and ambitions. Maybe (hopefully?) even a prototype epitaph. So here goes:

1. Be choppered onto an offshore oil rig, preferably a new-ish one, in the North Sea (or wherever's sexy at the time), and choppered off, of course.

2. Cross the Bering Strait in a kayak.

3. Watch herds of migratory animals from a hot air balloon somewhere over Africa.

4. Do all that travelling I mentioned in the previous two posts.

5. Live and work in London.

6. Live and work in Russia.

7. Find a humanitarian cause and acting on it.

8. See the establishment and worldwide recognition of a contiguous and viable Palestine state capable of sustaining a nation.

9. Raise intelligent and useful kids.

10. Skydive.

...and lots of other stuff. That I can't be bothered to think about right now, when it's time to leave the office.

========

I was reading TIME's list of people who have left us in 2007, and was shocked to find out that Kurt Vonnegut passed away this April. Vonnegut was my favourite critic of modern society and a major influence on how I think today. He's said and written countless memorable things, but I think the following is most apt for my blog:

"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be."

R.I.P. K.V.

Hello Traveller!

It's a slow post-public holiday end-of-year Friday morning in the office, and work is the last thing on my mind.

Having browsed through Dio's list of places she would like to visit before she dies, I too feel compelled to make public my travelling desires. Bearing in mind that my days as an indentured slave would end sometime in 2011, here are my plans till then:

2008 > International Year of the Sanitation (?) and the Potato (I kid you not)

Climbing Mount Kinabalu and diving off Layang-Layang, Sabah; Mulu Caves in Sarawak

2009 > International Year of Astronomy and Natural Fibres (??!)

Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, Tanzania; feeling the Freddie in Zanzibar; maybe diving off Mozambique

2010 > International Year of Communications

Trek to Mount Everest Base Camp and getting some culture in Nepal

2011 > International Year of Forests

South America! More high altitude adventures in Machu Picchu! Don't forget Lake Titicaca! A boat ride on the Amazon River, parties in Rio de Janeiro! And culture in Buenos Aires :)

Yeah so there's a lot of physical activity up there, but what better time to do that than when I'm still young?

La la la la la...

Brown as a Berry!

That's me! Got back from a one week getaway to Goa last night, and I'm missing it already *sniff*

Here's a pic from the trip:



It pretty much sums up my Goan experience :)


========


I think I've also figured out what I want. You know, from life. Yay!

Tick tock?

I want to marry an architect. A naval architect will do too. A man with the ability to weave the elegance of math and starkness of physics with wood metal stone glass mortar anything - to immortalise a beautiful idea in a functional form.

Where do I find him?

I love this city!

Arsey immigration officer, train delays due to a fatality on the track; brazen cold and spiritless rain; blustering moustaches staring sullenly out of kebab stores; Caribbean, Mediterranean, Eastern European voices moving through the streets... it's good to be home :)

It surprised me how easily I slipped into the swing of things here, after being away for over two years. I've paid respect to the city, revisiting streets that have long heard my footsteps and buildings that continue to influence my dreamscapes, catching up with old friends and recalling a culture shaped by freedom, acceptance and intemperate weather.

I leave in two days but now I am certain of returning, for the long run.

========

It amuses me that my Big Boss, a man of political office and foreign affairs, despises small talk as much as I do.

*gasp*

When I was about 6 years old, my parents packed the family and a couple of cousins off to a resort for a fun weekend. I'd just learnt to swim then and was terribly excited by the pool. My parents told me to stay in the shallow regions and left me in the care of my brother and cousin, who promptly swam off to a deeper part of the pool where the older kids were. Of course, as an impressionable little sister I swam off after them. I got tired and couldn't quite make it to the edge of the pool, and started to panic when I realised that the water was deeper than I was tall. Gesturing frantically didn't seem to attract my brother's attention, and the next thing I knew I was out of the pool sitting next to my mom listening to my dad yelling angrily at my brother.

Now, bone dry and 100m over sea level, I feel the same sense of panic and breathlessness from almost two decades ago. I'm not sure how I am going to meet all my deadlines in the next few weeks/months/years, but I do know that this time round my dad won't be able to pull me out of the water.

Back to work.